


Come hear the music play

by cyclogenesis (addictedkitten)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cabaret, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedkitten/pseuds/cyclogenesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night the boy in the black glittering vest sits down at Luke’s table and announces, “I’ve decided I like you now.” (AU based on the musical Cabaret.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come hear the music play

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by and written for [Carly](http://drunksos.tumblr.com/), with my most grateful thanks.

One night the boy in the black glittering vest sits down at Luke’s table and announces, “I’ve decided I like you now.” He slips a hand across the table like he means to tap Luke’s knuckles or snatch his philosophy textbook, but instead he just curls his fingertips around Luke’s cocktail glass, drags it close and takes a sip. He bats his eyelashes, heavy and black with the same mascara the cabaret girls wear, eyes outlined in the same dark kohl. He leaves a prim dark red lip print on the edge of Luke’s glass, perfect in its symmetry. 

“Well,” Luke says, once he’s caught his breath and the boy’s twinkle has dimmed a bit in the face of Luke’s silence. “That’s good to hear. Why didn’t you like me before?”

The boy shrugs, purses his glossed mouth in a pout. Instead of answering, he says, “This drink is too sweet. Be a doll and buy me a beer, would you?” He’s turned the twinkle back up. In the week or so that Luke’s been visiting this club he’s paid some attention to this boy; since the first night, if he’s honest, when his eyes were caught by pale skin and a top hat, a soft rounded body like the better fed dancers. He’s stayed attentive since, seen him turn up the charm to the men and women of the club, seen him flirt with the rich patrons and the boys in drag. Seen him just as often quiet and reflective, or sulky when his flirtations are ignored. He’s barely looked at anyone else. 

“I’ll buy you a beer for your name,” Luke offers. 

“That’ll cost you two beers,” the boy demurs. 

An indeterminate number of beers and several hours later, Luke and his dearly lightened pocketbook are finally properly introduced to Michael Clifford, cabaret boy. 

-

“I don’t _want_ to get ready for work,” Michael moans from the tangled nest of scarfs, quilts, and tattered old clothes that keeps him warm in his bed. Luke’s not entirely certain he’s wearing any clothes under all of it; upon entering Michael’s room he saw flashes of bare white skin and forced himself to turn away immediately so Michael wouldn’t catch his blush and mock him for it. 

Unmoved by Michael’s sorrows, Luke swirls his spoon in his tea. It needs honey. Michael never has honey in his room because he eats it all whenever he gets a jar, like a starving bear cub. Luke’s going to start bringing his own along and hiding it in his coat, taking it back and forth with him and just living with the risk that Michael might feel him up and snag it from his pocket someday. “You must,” Luke says finally. “I can’t support us on my student salary alone.”

“You don’t have a student salary,” Michael moans, sounding gravely injured by the fact. He rolls over onto his back, a stray length of fuzzy blanket only barely concealing his modesty. 

“I know,” Luke says grimly. He’ll need to wire his parents for more money in the next few days, and so soon after leaving for this lark of a trip to study in Berlin. 

Michael reaches a pitiful arm in his direction across the bed, his pout as forceful as a sunbeam through glass. “Come cuddle,” he says. Luke grabs his teacup and takes a gulp. He’ll not mention Michael to his parents just yet. His dear mother’s suspected his proclivities but - best not to worry her, especially not for just a cabaret dancer snuggle buddy. “And bring me a glass of water,” Michael adds once Luke’s stood up. Make that a cabaret dancer snuggle buddy who’s just too lazy to drag himself out of bed. 

“Five minutes of cuddling, and then you have to get ready else you’ll be late,” Luke says as firmly as he can manage. Michael looks up at him through his eyelashes, eyelids dusky with last night’s kohl. He takes a sip of the proffered water and sets the glass down on the table, then opens his arms. 

Luke sighs and joins him in bed, careful not to wrinkle his clothes too much as he lies down, lets Michael curl up around him, nesting them together like silver spoons. Michael rubs his cold nose against the back of Luke’s neck, and sighs like this is all he needs in the whole world to be happy. 

It’s that thought that gets him off later, alone in his cold little room at the boardinghouse, his hands down his pants and the memory of Michael’s mouth brushing his throat.

-

It’s night three of their tour - their Grand Tour Michael calls it, in offended tones when Luke seems less enthused than Michael considers sufficient. It’s at best a pub crawl, though Michael sometimes points out parks he likes or popular gambling spots he’s been kicked out of. But it pleases Michael to show Luke his own personal Berlin, the handful of places that have made an impact on him in his two years as an expat in the city, so Luke goes along with it and tries not to grin too obviously when Michael grabs his hand to pull him along and doesn’t let go. 

Luke almost misses it in the usual rundowns of Michael’s conquests - giggly blond Taylor at Bar Strackt after a street parade, Jessica the torch singer who taught him the right makeup to buy at that department store and how to treat a girl right when he was new in town, and so on. He would miss it, syllables buried in the street noise, mumbled slightly as Michael looks away, if not for the odd catch in his voice that makes Luke replay what he just heard in his mind.

“You kissed a man named Jack?” Luke repeats. Michael’s eyes dart around the street, nervous even though they’re just passing a bookshop. Luke wants to grab his hand, squeeze it for reassurance, but can’t bring himself to do it just yet. 

“Did more than kiss,” Michael says, finally meeting Luke’s eyes. He nods toward an alley. “Down in there.”

“Was it good?” Luke asks. He bites his lip. “I’ve never,” he starts, loses the will. Michael’s knuckles brush against his, fitting together for the slimmest moment like pieces of a puzzle. 

“I haven’t much,” Michael admits. “But I liked it.” When he looks again at Luke is smile is shy, sweet. 

Luke catches Michael’s hand between them and fits their fingers together. He tries not to blush, but Michael still laughs at him when he notices that he is anyway.

-

The sights pass by quickly after that, the streets black and gold, streaked with a late rain as they make their way back to Michael’s place hand in hand. Michael’s eyeliner smudges down his cheeks and his hair sparkles damply in the lamplight, red stain of lipstick on his mouth mostly worn away. He looks tired, wrecked, giddy, starts pulling at Luke’s rain-spattered clothes as soon as he locks his room behind them, pushing Luke back toward the bed. 

“I thought you would have kissed me before now,” Michael says, shameless as he strips out of his striped pants, leaves his coat in a pile on the floor. Luke can’t help but reach for him, sat up from his spot on the bed to pull him close, greedy for everything.

“I’ve just now decided I like you,” Luke informs him, and Michael bursts into a slightly mad giggle, pushes him back down onto the bed.

“Shut up,” Michael says. He steals their first kiss before Luke can give it to him. His skin is cold but his lips are warm as Luke pulls him in, dragging him under the blankets and reveling in all of Michael’s skin allowed him. “Want you so much now,” Michael murmurs against his mouth, arches against him and wastes no time, pressing his mouth to Luke’s throat, his bare chest, slipping lower. Luke just tangles his hands in Michael’s hair, lets him explore. He gasps at the first touch to his cock, too shy to admit he’s virgin to all of this but Michael must know. 

Michael takes care with him, sucks him slow and wet, green eyes wide and looking up at Luke while he does it. Luke doesn’t last long, can’t once Michael goes harder at it, takes him deeper until Luke comes down his throat with a cry. He reaches for Michael after and lets Michael have what he needs, holding him close and rubbing off against his stomach, splashing him with hot come. He’s trembling by the time he finishes, and Luke rubs his hands over his back, kisses his cheek. 

“It was a front, I wanted you all along,” Michael says, arches to meet Luke’s mouth, their lips brushing together.

“You have me now,” Luke says, meaning it. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Everything,” Michael says, warm and finally his, “everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you wish to like or share this story on Tumblr, please [use this link](http://cyclogenesis.tumblr.com/post/106072990871/come-here-the-music-play-michael-clifford-luke). :D And my [askbox](http://cyclogenesis.tumblr.com/ask) is always open to talk about it!


End file.
